We All Believe In Us, You, Fairytales
by Min Daae
Summary: Amy had always been a girl with big dreams.


When Amy was a girl, she had an imaginary friend.

This was not, the doctor assured her aunt when Amy was nine, particularly unusual. Many children had imaginary friends, and they all grew out of it. Perhaps she could try redirecting her attention to dolls?

Amy cut off most of the doll's brown hair and made her a messy suit jacket to wear. "It's the Doctor," she proclaimed to her horrified aunt. "And his favorite food is fish fingers and custard, and someday he's going to come and take me away."

The next year, her aunt sent her to her first psychiatrist, who attempted to pinpoint Amy's reasons for clinging to her imaginary man with a blue box. _Are you unhappy? _He asked. _Is your Aunt often away from home? _

_Not really, and no, _she said, swinging her legs on the couch that was too big for her and holding her Doctor-doll on her lap. _I'm all right. _

He concluded the session by informing her gently that she had to let go of her Doctor, because he wasn't real. This upset Amy quite a bit and she stomped out of the office in a high dudgeon.

In year three, she met Rory Williams. When she first saw Rory, he had longish hair and was wearing a suit jacket that itched. In quick succession, she made up her mind that he a) looked a _little_ like her Doctor and b) therefore must be her friend. Rory was sometimes a little bit slow, she thought, and he didn't seem to like it when she pretended he was her Doctor. But he did all right, and built a very nice blue box with her, even if theirs didn't have a library _or _a swimming pool in it.

Rory asked her to marry him (when they grew up, of course) and she informed him solemnly that she could not _possibly, _because she was going to marry the Doctor.

Rory had said that she couldn't marry the Doctor because he didn't exist, and Amy hadn't talked to him for a whole week.

By year eight, she had gone through a grand total of three psychiatrists, countless arguments with her mother, and at least four dramatic breakups with Rory all because of the Doctor. She defended him ardently-

Until she couldn't anymore.

In year nine, Amy Pond threw away her Doctor-doll and all the drawings she had made. She cried a little, but she moved on. Really. He had said he would come back, but he hadn't, had he? And perhaps she really had dreamed the whole thing, the crack in her wall, the blue box with its library and swimming pool and the madman who clambered out of it, better than Santa, who liked fish fingers and custard.

She let him go and moved on to other things, _better _things, she was determined to make of herself. Not to be just a girl waiting.

She moved through high school like a drifter, and university with single-minded focus on becoming an actress that died as soon as she was out of school. Amy got a couple odd jobs, but nothing very interesting and nothing that excited her, just little things to pay off her student loans. She got engaged to Rory Williams, who had cut his hair and was on his way to becoming a nurse, and on the eve of her wedding, was staring at her wedding dress with a feeling of impending doom when she heard someone downstairs.

The Raggedy Doctor had returned, and her first thought was that he really had impeccable timing.

After that, Amy was just angry.

Though not for very long.

~.~

Riding with the Doctor was like nothing else at all.

_Well, obviously, _Amy thought to herself, but it was true nonetheless. The whirlwind pace at which he moved, sweeping you and everyone else along, saving the world in less than twenty minutes, and then turning and meeting your eyes with his hands on the controls of his blue-box-spaceship and asking you, "Well, where to?"

She felt more alive than she'd ever been in her whole life until now.

Was it worth the wait? Oh yes, oh _yes. _Sometimes, with him, she felt like she was running to stand still, and standing still to catch up, and by the time she got there he was already gone again; she was just barely keeping pace.

Exhilirating, that was what it was.

She never wanted to land.

"You know," she said, once, as they were spinning through space. "I once told a boy I couldn't marry him because I was going to marry you."

He was fussing around the controls and only straightened a little, looking bemused. "You did?"

She nodded, solemnly. "Course, I was only ten at the time."

"Definitely would have been too old for you," he said, sternly, and she laughed and spun her chair in a circle, around and around.

"So where are we going?" she asked, and he grinned and turned his head to look at her.

"I don't know," he said, and then added, "Where do _you _think we should go, Amelia?" Her heart jumped a little with glee, and she took a moment to catch her breath.

"You know," she said, "You're the only one who calls me Amelia. Ever."

"Do you mind?" He asked, expression becoming tinged with slight consternation. She giggled and leaned forward, kissed his cheek on a whim – and to watch him flush.

"No," she said. "I don't mind."

~.~

Most girls left their imaginary friends behind by the time they were ten.

Then again, most girls didn't have imaginary friends who came to their actual wedding.

Amelia Pond had never been most girls, and she had waited long enough.

When she was very young, she had waited hours outside in the cold with a suitcase for a madman with a box. This time, she left without a suitcase and without looking back, a husband on her arm and her knight in Shining TARDIS over her shoulder.

And this time, she was never coming back down.


End file.
